CHAPTER V
WITH ELMER LEFT IN
All I can say is that it was a busy day at the Corrugated. Course, I might go into details, just as I might put mustard in my coffee, or lock Piddie in the bond safe. Neither of them performances would be quite so fruity as for me to give out particulars about this special directors' meetin' that was goin' on. Speakin' by and large, though, when you clean up better'n thirty per cent. on a semi-annual, you got to do some dividend-jugglin', ain't you? And with them quiz committees so thick, it's apt to be ticklish work.
Anyway, Old Hickory has chewed up four brunette cigars the size of young baseball bats, two of the Board have threatened to resign, and a hurry call has just been sent out for our chief counsel to report, when Mr. Robert glances annoyed towards the door. It's nobody but fair-haired Vincent, that has my old place on the gate, and he's merely peekin' in timid, tryin' to signal someone.
"For heaven's sake, Torchy," says Mr. Robert, "see what that boys wants. I've already waved him away twice. Of course, if it is anything important—"
"I get you," says I, passing over to him the tabulated reports I'd been sittin' tight with. Then I slips out to where Vincent is waitin'.
"Buildin' on fire?" says I.
"Why, no, sir," says be, goin' bug-eyed.
"Oh!" says I. "Then who you got waitin' out there—Secretary Daniels or the Czar of Russia?"
Vincent pinks up like a geranium and smiles shy, like he always does when he's kidded. "If you please, sir," says he, "it's only a lady; to see Mr. Mason, sir."